


Inklings

by alittlebitaces (acesmcgee)



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Ice Skating, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-20
Updated: 2012-06-20
Packaged: 2017-11-08 03:58:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acesmcgee/pseuds/alittlebitaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just some fluffy drabble dredging up Myka's love for ice skating, dumped from my tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inklings

The snow crunched beneath her as Myka shifted her weight, drawing up her other foot and working on those laces with numbing, clumsy fingers. It was nearly midnight and everything was quiet with that hushed, lifeless sort of calm that only comes in the dead of winter, making it easy to hear the soft breath of the woman beside her. She glanced over out of the corner of her eye, watching as a huff of exasperated air created a cloud before that pale face.

“Bloody cold,” Helena hissed beneath her breath, scowling so fiercely at her own half-laced skates that Myka couldn’t help but bark a laugh.

She leaned to the side and nudged the time traveler with her shoulder. “You alright over there?”

“Yes, yes,” she bit back, wrenching the offending strings tighter, wincing at it. Still, she softened and added, “Or at least I  _will_  be once I figure out how you managed to beguile me into accompanying you out here at this hour, Agent Bering.”

Myka grinned, a flash of white in the glow of their electric lantern. “I said please. And batted my eyelashes a bit.”

Helena snorted, but the agent could see she was struggling valiantly with keeping a mirrored grin from her face—and failing. “Well. I’ll be ever so careful not to fall for that again. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice…” She trailed off and dipped her head with an emphatic lift of her brows.

“Yeah, yeah, less grump, more skating, Miss Wells.” 

Rising to her feet, Myka brushed the snow from the back of her coat and waited patiently beside her company, tilting her head back as Helena finished tying. The sky was clear of clouds and they were so far away from any semblance of a town that the stars were a glittering sea painted above, the hazy swath of the Milky Way bisecting it. Her eye could make out a couple constellations—Orion was past the apex, Canis Major on its heels and high—but she was certain Pete would be able to point out a lot more. So soon as Helena had puzzled out how to stand on her own blades (and looking quite proud with herself for doing so) Myka switched off the lantern and guided them the couple steps to the frozen lake. It was more a pond, really, located a comfortable walk away from the bed and breakfast, but it wore a frozen skin thick enough to support their weight so as far as she was concerned, it was perfect. There were no overreaching brambles to worry about, so they would be able to get by with moonlight alone. 

Myka took a single push out onto the ice and then looked back to Helena taking a tentative first step. A fluttering little smile rose to her lips. Admittedly, this time she was glad Pete had declined the offer to join them.

Ever since she was a little girl she had felt at home on the ice, the almost effortless glide and whispered scrape of the blades making it easy to lose herself in it, offering a respite from her own thoughts. Out there with the winter chill reddening her nose the world felt clear, and fresh, and alive. It had been decidedly too long since the last time she was able to, back when she and Pete had been on their third excursion as partners, and she missed that feeling—it was a rare moment of peace and true relaxation for her.

A little yelp brought her back and she turned with a slight skitter of ice to face where it had come from. Helena was a few paces behind her, arms outstretched to try and maintain balance, black hair obscuring her face as she kept her eyes glued to her feet. Myka was quick to clasp a hand over her mouth, but it wasn’t in time to muffle the beginnings of her giggle. The pale face immediately lifted, fixating on her.

“What?” she asked, the tone of it practically daring her to keep laughing.

Myka was so used to seeing Helena graceful and elegant that she almost couldn’t help herself anyway. “Absolutely nothing,” she replied, but her voice was strained high with the effort. The other woman could see how her shoulders shook with ill-restrained mirth and glared at her throughout the painfully slow approach. 

“Some of us lack the luxury of having grown up on these infernal things,” she quipped with a sniff, but that only sent the brunette into a fresh tirade of giggles. 

Helena had never seen the agent so free and quick to smile, out from under the invisible weight she almost always carried, and it almost instantly soothed whatever ire she felt. Then she broke with an exasperated laugh of her own. “Yes, by all means  _laugh_ , don’t  _help_  me.”

Composing herself with some difficulty, Myka replied, “You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry. Okay, just act like—” she broke off and canted her head to the side, renewing the smile on Helena’s face. “Pretend less like you’re walking, and more like you’re wading into water or something—yeah, like that.” Having lowered her arms a bit, the Victorian shifted her weight forward and let her foot carry forward in the glide. Myka watched her get the hang of it, and she could feel herself beaming along with Helena’s triumphant expression, eyes glittering. 

She had just about reached the brunette when a blade caught on an uneven patch carved by Myka’s own, and she pitched forward so suddenly that she couldn’t even think to let out a cry. But Myka was there with a hand fast around her arm, catching her and steadying her, her heart pounding in her chest at the near miss and then not from that at all as Helena was drawn in close.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you,” came the steady assurance, no trace of her previous laughter in it, and Helena allowed herself to relax just a bit. 

The pair was close enough now so that she could see the way most of the colour had drained from Myka’s face in the crisp night, but her nose was bright red, and that coupled with the riot of curls bursting out from under her knitted cap became an endearing vision that caused her heart to swell—though the comforting hold played no small part, either. 

Myka smiled at her, only for her, bright and guileless, and the last of Helena’s inner reservations melted away.

“There, see?” The other woman’s words sent up a cloud to mingle with her own. “Go ahead and try again.”

She must have sensed Helena hesitate, because she said then, “Don’t worry. I’m not letting go, I promise.”

And it was as simple as that. With Myka settled in line beside her, she started off again, attempting to mimic the more seasoned ease that her partner moved with. The both of them fell silent, their swaying motions reaching alignment. Although she was outwardly focused on picking a path for them over the moonlit rink, Myka’s mind had wandered again, though not so far from present situation. It brought her back to her second meeting with the time traveler, when she was out on assignment with Claudia at the university. Back then it had been Helena’s arm that had wrapped tight around her in the face of danger, hoisting her skyward and safe, and in hindsight it was even easier to see this woman and the effect she had on Myka would be difficult to shake. Not that she had honestly been trying, she conceded, and ducked her head to hide the guilty but perfectly remorseless quirk of her lips.

After a few goes around the pond Helena was skating with some semblance of success but Myka had kept true to her promise all the same, affording her the luxury of being able to lift her chin and steal a glance to her right. Ever since they had linked arms, holding as tight and close as the bulk of their coats allowed, the agent’s lips had never quite shaken their faint curl, and a tinge of pink had returned to her cheeks. Helena looked away again and snuck a private smile of her own, her heart soaring again. She knew she felt it, too. 

 _This_ , Helena decided, was not so terrible a future to arrive in.


End file.
